


Drinkable Smoke

by jessm78, terryreviews



Series: An Odd Pair [13]
Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessm78/pseuds/jessm78, https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: The Doctor wants Jamie to try something new.Special shout out to Jessm78 for the contributions/edits on the finished product.
Relationships: Second Doctor/Jamie McCrimmon
Series: An Odd Pair [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822429
Comments: 12
Kudos: 6





	Drinkable Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that occurred to me. Jamie likes to eat tangible food but at the same time, he tends o go with things that he can readily identify. He's caught between his need to eat/not caring and his desire to eat things familiar to him.
> 
> The Doctor wants to expand those boundaries.

"It's, ah, drinkable smoke."

"Oh...wha'?"

"Mmm, from a charming little planet on the outskirts of Beetlejuice."

"How can ye drink smoke?"

"Well, you see, it's a fascinating process. First, they have to cook a large meal over a fire. The ingredients depend on the flavor they're trying to make..."

Jamie jumped in knowing if he didn't he would get an entire presentation on the processes of turning smoke drinkable for the next hour. He loved hearing his chappie prattle on about things that interested him but prolonging the inevitable as he held the bottle wasn't an appealing prospect,

"Wha' flavor is this then?"

The Doctor took the bottle into his own hand, squinted at the wee odd writing on the label, "I believe it says...savory."

"Savory?"

"Go ahead," the Doctor passed it back, "you just pop the top with your thumb and, right as it comes out, put your mouth over it."

Jamie eyed the bottle dubiously. The smoke was a brownish red with curls of black coiling around and through them. A churning, flowing, force like the smoke from a candle.

"Is it hot?"

"Oh no, no," the Doctor waved a hand, "it's at room temperature. No hotter than a glass of water from the tap."

Still, Jamie eyed the thing a moment longer before letting out a resigned sigh.

"Och, fine! I'll try it!"

"That's the spirit!"

Jamie studied the bottle, the top of which was a perfectly round knob in bright silver with no sign of seam for a twist top.

"How'd ye say tae open it?"

"You remember how I showed you to use a lighter? It's just that. You put your thumb on the center of the tip and flick your thumb back to create a hole. When you want to close it again you move your thumb back over it in the opposite direction. Best to put your mouth on top of it when it's opened."

Jamie opened his mouth and placed it just above the bottle, thumb poised on the opener.

"Remember, Jamie, the smoke is drinkable. It will be light and vaporous in your mouth. You must swallow, not inhale. It won't hurt you if you forget but it'll be unpleasant. Like when you have water go down the wrong pipe." The Doctor folded his hands in his lap and nodded, anticipation in his eyes. Clearly, from his expression, he thought that this was something Jamie really was going to like. For that alone, Jamie was willing to try.

Bracing, Jamie flicked his thumb. At first, all he heard was a small hiss as the smoke was released and then he could smell it.

Jamie had never smoked in his life. A few men in his village did and it always smelled foul. This, however, had a warm scent similar to a cooking fire. It made him think of his grandmother and mother, nights out with the lads as a wee boy stoking their own blaze with pathetic twigs as they stayed out too late. And then there were the times with the Doctor when they'd found themselves hopelessly lost in some forest or jungle and needing a bit of light. Jamie would get a fire going and the two of them would make the best of it, stargazing. One time, the Doctor had managed to produce a length of sausages from the depths of his mysterious pockets.

The memories filled Jamie with warmth and nostalgia as he smelled the smoke. A rich smell, full of promise. Yet, something was off. Something that stung his nose.

Then it hit his tongue.

Managing to capture the "drink" in his mouth he instantly regretted it. He held against his tongue, wishing to push it back out but instead forced his throat to relax and swallowed, feeling the "liquid" swirl and burn down his throat and crash into his stomach.

He shoved the bottle back into the Doctor's hand as he began hacking, tears rolling down his cheeks.

He heard the Doctor tisk, "I did say to swallow Jamie," and, before Jamie could warn him, the Doctor proceeded to take his own, much larger, mouth full.

Blue eyes widened, comically large, as he stared at Jamie. And had Jamie not been dealing with his own crisis (mouth open, tongue out) he might have laughed at the expression of sheer panic and regret on the man's face since he'd been unjustly chastized by said man, not more than a moment ago.

With an audible gulp the Doctor swallowed and let out a loud, "oh my word!" the Doctor sprang up onto his feet and called over his shoulder, "follow me to the kitchen, quick now!"

By the time Jamie caught up and the kitchen door swung shut behind him, the Doctor was pouring milk into two glasses.

He slid a glass along the counter which Jamie caught instinctively.

"Drink up Jamie," he said before downing his own milk.

Jamie guzzled the cold relief until the burn was gone and the glass empty. Almost at the same time, they plopped their glasses down with sharp tinks on the counter.

Once Jamie caught his breath he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt and looked at the Doctor.

"I though' ye said it wasn' hot!?"

The Doctor shifted in place, "it wasn't supposed to be."

He promptly moved around the counter, out the door, back to the little room they'd been in, Jamie in tow.

The bottle was on its side, nestled in the pillows they'd been sitting on. The Doctor snatched it up and glared at the label for betraying him until his eyes stuck on one particular spot.

"Oh," he said with a flighty chuckle, avoiding Jamie's eyes.

"Wha's oh?" Jamie crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well...uh...you see, Jamie," the Doctor coughed, "this symbol," he pointed at said symbol, "is very similar to...I mean...it's an honest mistake..."

"Wha' is?" Jamie resisted tapping his foot.

The Doctor cleared his throat again and murmured, "the symbol for savory closely...closely resembles the one for..."

"For?"

"Spicy."

Jamie blinked. The Doctor blinked back.

Then, oh so slowly, Jamie began to smile. He reached down in a flash, snatching a pillow, which he promptly bopped the Doctor in the face with.

"Ye silly daftie!"

"Jamie!" The Doctor, too startled at first to do much except let Jamie hit him several times with the pillow, eventually started to giggle and snagged a fluffy weapon of his own.

They tossed and smacked pillows against each other until they were breathless from laughter and sweaty and collapsed into a pile on the floor.

"Och and ye wonder why I don' like tryin' new things!"

The Doctor ruffled his hair, "it was meant to taste like smoked meat. I know I have that flavor, I just misread the label. If I just," he began to rise and Jamie caught his arm.

"Oh no. Ye'll no' be trickin' me into tryin' somethin' even worse!" He yanked the other back down on top of himself as he settled into the pillows, "ye're gonna sit here, with me, and we're gonna cuddle and," he searched around himself for the remote he knew would turn on the screen in the wall, "watch tha' movie ye wanted tae show me. And the next time we have a snack it's gonna be a normal one."

"...I could make popcorn?" The Doctor offered from where he'd tucked himself into the younger man's chest.

"And why can' I make it?" Jamie found the remote under the fourth pillow he dipped his hand under.

"You know why," he heard the tease in the other man's voice and smiled.

"I'll have ye know that the more butter the better!"

"With the way you make it it might as well be butter soup!"

They did end up making popcorn some twenty minutes later, but only after several compromises and kisses later.

The Doctor did notice that the bottle had "spilled", the smoke had risen to the ceiling above him and his companion. The way the drink worked, that smoke would eventually condense and turn into a proper liquid. However, he estimated they had at least a few hours and Jamie was oh so comfortable. Best not say anything and ruin a perfectly good cuddle when they should have plenty of time to get out of the way.

"Do ye smell somethin'?" Jamie asked him some hour later, groggy as he'd begun to nod off. The movie, not something he particularly cared about, just enjoyed being close/warm with his lover.

The Doctor cast a quick glance at the ceiling. The cloud had moved down a little.

"Oh," he guessed the rate of descent, weighed it against how comfortable they were, and nuzzled into the crook of Jamie's neck, "just how sweet you are."

He felt Jamie's huff of a laugh in his chest, Jamie's arms squeezing tighter around him. Yes, they should have a little more time before they'd end up dealing with a mess.


End file.
